The Illusion of Loneliness
by onceupondramione
Summary: Hermione could not adjust after the war so she left to embark on a new chapter of her life. A chapter spent alone in the Muggle World, where she keeps a low profile, away from the limelight. After setting up as a TA, an old offer and a case bring the FBI to her. An appealing offer this time. Meeting Reid was not part of the plan...neither was dealing with her past...
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1:**

 **DISCLAIMER**

Anything that you recognise is from the brilliant authors of Criminal Minds, particularly Jeff Davis.

And anything you otherwise recognise is from the magnificent JK Rowling.

I admit to having read bookworm4life0812 and keelhauserose and Seriously Orion Wicked fanfics. And that I was inspired by them.

The rest is me just goofing around.

 **MOVING ON FORWARD**

It was one of those bright sunny days, those days we rarely see in England, where everything seemed possible.

The mass of people did not, for once, seem frightening to Hermione, on the contrary she relished in the view of all her classmates and professors gathering to commence a ceremony that will finally launch them unto the world as fully fledged adults. The ceremony where she would finally get her last diploma: her PDH in criminal science.

But this view was bitter sweet, for she has no parents attending on what should be her day; she has but a few friends from Hogwarts gathered in a circle waiting for her by the corridor. But having already cried herself to sleep last night thinking about the parents that do not remember her, she just tries to smile.

It seems like it was only yesterday, and yet it was four years ago, that Harry and her went back to Australia. She painfully remembers the awkwardness of wanting to throw herself in their arms, only to have them look at her with curious yet reserved faces that showed nothing more than polite interest. When the spell did not work the first time she told herself that she was stressed and took a minute to collect herself. When the spell did not work the second time she started to feel her eyes stinging with the tears that were threatening to come out, but she ignored it and went on. When the spell did not work a third time she felt Harry's hand on her arm, lowering a wand. That is when she had to acknowledge that her perfectly outlined plan was flawed…

She had never imagined that she would not be able to reverse the spell. She had foolishly thought that everything would be alright: after all did they not defeat the very embodiment of Evil? Did they not have suffered enough to come to this point? Why couldn't it be perfect for once?

But in that moment, when Harry lowered her arm, it felt like the air had left her body, like she was just a solid mass of lead. Had it not been for the man she considered her brother she would have surely hit her head on the floor, but Harry took her in his harm and slowly sank to the floor with her, drying the tears that had already started to flow. Those traitorous tears that did not seem to stop.

Hermione shook her head to clear it form the memory, she told herself that enough was enough, and that crying now was pointless. Nobody wanted to hear about her pain now, sh was supposed to celebrate! that was what one does when one graduates College!

Searching intently through the crowd and not just looking past the faces like she has done previously, Hermione soon recognised a group of people, her people: Harry stood there with his hair still completely messy like he just came out of bed, next to him his radiant wife was laughing loudly at what her read-headed prankster of a brother told her. It had been hard for George to smile and laugh again and in the first years it had seemed impossible, but Angelina Johnson, his childhood crush and dear friend, had helped soothe the pain a little so that living became bearable again.

Next to them was a group of respected adults that Hermione was proud to call friends. Remus, with whom she had gotten very close in this past couple of years, was the only one looking at her. His smile was a familiar yet always appreciated one. It was the smile he gave her when the became so entranced in describing a book that her all body shook with passion, the smile he gave her when only the two of them understood a joke made because it concerned a book that the others had never heard of. Remus was talking to her favourite professor, Minerva, for the witch had decided that she would not respond to Hermione's letters if she did not start addressing her as such, who seemed to smile fondly at what Remus was telling her. Mr and Mrs Weasley were there talking to a very pregnant Tonks, who held a six-year-old Teddy by the hand as he pulled to get closer to his godfather.

Hermione approached the group slowly as Remus disentangled himself from Minerva and made his way to his friend. For that was what Hermione was to him : a very close friend, dare he say a _daughter_. After returning from Australia with Harry Hermione had shut herself from everyone, especially her young friends who could not really understand her pain, as the war had ended a year prior. Only George could have, but he was already so detached from the realities of the world and grieving that Hermione did not seek to had to his burden by talking about her pain.

This same pain was the reason why her relationship with Ron did not work out. As much as everyone was thrilled about them finally acknowledging their feelings to one another, Ron could not be there for her. She did not really blame him; he was still grieving for his brother. But she resented the fact that he demanded that she help him with his pain when she so obviously had her own to deal with. Before going to Australia to search for her parents Hermione had allowed Ron to rely on her because she though he needed it more then her, and that she was strong. But upon her return he expected the same of her, and while she loved him, his disregard to her feelings hurt her. She knew that he did not mean to spite her, but his vision of what a girlfriend should be was flawed and diminishing. He expected her to be there for him, while he protected her - never mind the fact that she was stronger than him - but he did not seem to think that he should be there for her to also confide her feelings. This made Hermione seek comfort elsewhere and because Harry has his own demons to battle and a very lovely girlfriend to enjoy, she went to Remus.

Remus who took the time to acknowledge her pain and give her a quite support. Being in his presence was soothing and she soon spent so much time in Tonk's and Remus' cottage that they asked her to move out of the Burrow to spend time with them and be with her grandson, whom she adored. Teddy brought joy everywhere he went and lessened some burdens. She accepted readily.

But she had not anticipated the reaction Ron had to the news, and in retrospect Hermione considered that she never should have started the conversation in the living-room. He, at first, was stunned into silence as he listened to her talking about living at the cottage, alone, then he started to tell her in a broken voice that she was leaving him alone to deal with his grief. When Hermione negated that statement by saying that she would be there for him everyday if he needed her and started to argue that if that was the case she did not need to leave. At this point his voice had risen and Harry, Ginny and George had came down to see what the problem was. But Hermione was unaware of the audience and started to explain to Ron that ever since her return she had not been allowed to grieve and that leaving at the cottage would be her way to deal with what happened to her. But Ron told her that she was selfish and thinking only about herself ! Hermione laughed at that statement because she could not believe HE was calling her selfish ! She tried to calm down and explain to Ron that he had been the only one allowed to grieve since the beginning and that he never asked her if she was alright.

And that is when Hermione realised how much their couple was doomed to a disaster from the start : Ron responded to her that her ROLE as his girlfriend was to allow him to grieve and be there for him! She realised in that moment that Ron expected her to be exactly like his mother: to allow him to discharge and be comforted but never the opposite. At this realisation Hermione took a deep breath, a step back - physically and metaphorically - and told Ron that even though it pained her, if that was the way he viewed her role in the relationship then it has no chance to survive and that it was better to just end it now.

She now remembers very well how it went:

\- "End it?" exclaimed Ron, startled.

\- "Yes Ron, end it. We clearly do not want the same thing out of this. I though you wanted a partner, an equal who would work by your side, but clearly you want a girlfriend who will submit to your desires!" She yelled. And only when Hermione had finished to say this that she turned around and realised that they had an audience.

\- "That is not true!" Said Ron, trying to placate her. "I just want you to be there for me and not go on and on about your problems!"

\- "My problems? My problems Ron is that my parents are as good as dead to me! That is as much painful as the fact that Fred is dead, and I am also sad about his death! You do not get to minimise my grief!"

At this point Harry decided to intervene:

\- "Guys, calm down, you are going to wake up Mrs Weasley!" Then he turned to Ron and said in a calm normal voice, as if talking to a spooked animal: " Hermione has a point Ron, you do not let her talk about anything that only concerns her! It is always about you or your relationship!"

At this point Ron had turned red, angry and ashamed to be put on the spot.

\- "Oh ! That is right take her defence, like you always do! It is always the two of you against me isn't it?".

Hermione and Harry exhaled at once and saw that everyone in the room was looking at them confused.

But Ron went on:

\- " What really went on in that tent ? Did you two do it? Is that why you do not want to have sex with me Hermione? Because you are afraid I will find out you are not a virgin?"

At that point Harry was red with anger and Hermione with shame! How dare he say such a thing! And in front of everyone!

But Mr Weasley intervened in their favour, as George and Ginny were also about to speak their minds. He took Ron by the shoulders and directed him out of the house and into the garden. He then proceeded to tell his son that if he did not sort out his priorities then he would find himself friendless and that he was ashamed of him.

By that point Hermione had had enough, she turned to Harry and said:

"When he comes through you can tell him that he and I are over!"

Then her body seemed to deflate and looking at Ginny and George, she sees the concerned and ashamed expressions on their faces, like their brother's reaction would affect her friendship with them. Exhausted and still angry Hermione just smiled at them. She then grabbed her book and took the floo network to the cottage.

Remus and Hermione talked while walking back to the group where Hermione was hugged by everyone and congratulated for her work.

The ceremony took place but Hermione felt a strange sense of detachment from it all, like it was happening to another her, a happier version of her, unburdened by grief.

At the end of the day Hermione smiled and politely listen to the conversations, but her friends had left to bring the children to bed, as Harry and Ginny were married and had a seven month old baby, that a friend was babysitting. Remus stayed behind while Tonks had left but Hermione told him to go see his wife and wished him a pleasant night. Before leaving he invited her to a dinner next week-end, Hermione agreed, without paying much though to it, but knowing she would not be there.

Because her letter burning a hole in her pocket offered her a different sort of future. A future that sent her far away from the people she new and loved, but also away from the grief she was still feeling after all this time.

A grief that seemed to separate her from the others, in a way even her intelligence had never done. And that made her feel so very alone!

 _AN:_

 _I know some of you like Ron, and while I do not particularly like him i don't detest him either. But I find the couple Ron/Hermione improbable and illogical. And I do find Ron to be too self-centred._

 _On another note I think this story could be about 40 chapters or so. We'll see._

 _Let me know what you think of it, reviews are appreciated. Especially since this is my first fanfic._

 _And English isn't my first language so if you see any mistakes please do point them out!_


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER**

Anything that you recognise is from the brilliant authors of Criminal Minds, particularly Jeff Davis, and the magnificent JK Rowling's universe.

 **CHAPTER 2: AS USUAL?**

Anyone who would describe Spencer Reid would use al least one of the words: weird, lonely, know-it-all, genius, detached… And maybe some other expletives that aren't so nice to hear.

But to Diana Reid Spencer would always be one thing first : lovely. She may not understand exactly all that she and her son have been through, her schizophrenia saw to the constant state of confusion, but she was by no mean ignorant about her son's character. And to her Spencer was lovely. Yes, she acknowledges that Spencer could be aloof and in his own world, but she new that his spontaneous exclamations about random facts were the way he thought he should present himself to the world. because Spencer was fragile in the inside, and he relied on what he thought to be his only attribute: his seemingly endless source of knowledge.

That version of him was indeed the only one people saw, at first. But to Diana Reid this was a shame: because her boy had so much to offer to the world. And it did not all involve facts: it also involved his incredible, yet oh so hidden, heart!

That is what Diana reflected upon when reading the daily letters Spencer sent her. She new his letters were the only way he could reconcile himself with being so far away from her all the time, but she did not begrudge him his time-consuming career, on the contrary she accepted that Spencer was a boy that had a lot to offer to the word.

One problem remains though: to almost everyone Spencer appears as a BOY, not a MAN….

To deter this perception Spencer encouraged people to call him Doctor, because his degrees where something he was proud of, without boasting about it, and because it reminded him of Doctor Who - which was alway a plus!

The distinction made by his age difference from the team, his reserved exterior, his avoidance of physical contact and especially his ability to tell people in a second the number of inhabitants in any given town of the US, made the people around Spencer see him as a person who did not have a lot of emotions to divulge.

But Spencer had a lot of emotions inside of him, storms of them, that he could not - or would not - allow to see the light of day. And that is why when the twenty-four-year-old man faced an emotional problem he tried to resolve it all on his own.

And on this Friday night Spencer was conflicted! Since this horrible case last year where he had been hold captive by a schizophrenic Dilaudid addict, Spencer had struggled with his need for a fix. And while Spencer had managed to substitute the need for the drug with the need for less dangerous substances such as caffeine he still had a problem! A problem his team was seeing, or acknowledging…

And Spencer often laughed, although without humour, that a team of profilers should be able to realise his state of sleep depravation! "Of course!" he thought, he always has been more on the pale side, and the dark circles under his eyes from the night mares that came with the horrific images his job brought could explain his mine. But lately his pallor was associated with one thing: an obsession with moving on!

Moving on from the instinctive need to check inside the left interior pocket of his tweed jacket to grasp at what had been there a month ago: this little phial of substance that made him forget, that made him happy for a while. Unburdened with the realities of his professional and personal life this little phial provided an escape. But what a bitter-sweet escape!

Spencer was not delusional: he knew, from the realities of his profession and his studies that addiction was a real issue. But battling it alone seemed to be the only way he would allow the fight to even exist. Spencer did not want to make others acknowledge his problems. He thought about it: but telling Hotch or Morgan would be problematic. Hotch because the man would feel compelled to bench him from some time and Spencer could not afford to be left out… Morgan because the man would feel guilty about knowing this huge secret about his friend: firstly because he did not realise sooner that his "Pretty Boy" was in trouble, secondly because not telling the rest of the team would put too much pressure on the man. Garcia was a definite no: the women loved gossip but she would feel compelled by her moral compass and by her need to help, to tell someone! The only person that he could talk to would be Prentiss: but she was still to new to the team to fully ascertain her reaction to the problem. And she was already the one who had seen that he had a problem in the first place, no reason to add to the pile.

On this Friday night Spencer was therefore conflicted, he thought that he understood how obsessions worked. He studied them for a living for heaven's sake! But he could not get a train of thought out of his head: he needed coffee! Well, more importantly he needed coffee so that he would not need something stronger.

But what Spencer really needed was a distraction: something good to keep his mind of the bad! Something that would consume him enough that, from time to time, he could forget about his troubles. Something that was new and fresh and all his…

But before Spencer could let his mind wonder as to what that thing would be his cellphone vibrated on the coffee table.

Pushing the books that where haphazardly open face down on his long legs he sat up and reached for the offending device. A simple text from Hotch : "Got a Case. Meeting in the conference room ASAP!".

"Here goes my quite Friday night !" Thought Spencer. But a voice in his head reminded him that maybe the distraction wasn't such a bad thing after all… Anything to get him out of the house would be appreciated.

As he stepped out of the elevator doors Spencer ran right into Garcia, who was rushing past him, very likely coming from her office, he thought. She reminded him of characters from _Alice in Wonderland_ , the rabbit because she often seemed frazzled and overwhelmed, Alice because she had that juvenile _naiveté_ that he himself never had - a quality that usually disappeared in their line of work. But her naivety, her innocence, seemed to exist in spite of all the horrors they saw. It was like she shielded herself so well that she protected her mind by actively seeking out the good. And Spencer thought, though he never really said anything, that it was a wonderful quality.

As he ran into her Garcia let out a startled scream and all the papers that were in her arms dispersed on the floor in a complete disarray. Apologetic Spencer tried to bend down and help her recover all her files, but Garcia decided to just take it all in a completely messy way. He tried to help her but Garcia stopped him :

\- "Oh my wonderfully spaced out Good Doctor ! It's not a problem! Just ask Chocolate Thunder to come help me, will you? I would very much like to see that men bend !"

Spencer just watched her as she spewed her habitual unethical language and hid a smile that threatened to come out. Considering it was rude of him not to help he started to do so, but Garcia yanked him out of the way and told him:

"NO! I am not mad about this mess, but you WILL go ask the Statuesque God over there to come move is oh so perfect ass and help me!" She then took a lower tone of voice, realising that she had screamed somewhat: " And do not try to apologise Little Genius, just bring the manpower out, will you?".

Spencer decided not to argue with her - as the risk of being manhandled seemed to increase exponentially- and walked into the bullpen to ask Morgan to help the damsel in distress.

But as soon as Derek saw him he backtracked. The man just had this look in his eyes: the one that promised one of those conversations about Spencer's lack of social interactions, particularly the kind that ended horizontally! While Spencer had no problem with Derek's lifestyle he just did not want to participate. But the man was persistent in his quest for a mentee, Spencer would give him that.

As he backtracked he felt JJ arrive through the doors behind him and considered that striking a conversation with the blond was the safest bet so far, as Emily was not around yet. JJ started talking about his godson, Henry, which always put Spencer in a good mood. As the discussed his sleeping habits - or lack of thereof as it was more the case- they made their way to the conference room, where Garcia, still very much frazzled, was sorting out her papers.

Sitting down at the round table Spencer felt the familiar sense of dread and excitement at the prospect of discovering a new depraved side of humanity. A lot of people would never get why their job was so fascinated, but for Spencer it was familiar in the way Proust describes his madeleine. It was remembering every hour spent learning all those paraphilia that the human mind created. And as it was often the case, Spencer spent the next minute waiting for the team to arrive, by thinking of one of his technical books describing a particular aspect of the human mind.

While he let his mind wonder the others had arrived and Hotch had instructed Garcia and JJ to start presenting the case to the team. Focusing on the paper file - because Garcia new his mistrust technology - Spencer opened the pages showing gruesome pictures of people bend in half, in post-mortem expressions that could only come from extensive amounts of torturous acts, but he did not stop at those particular images. No, what intrigued Spencer was the fact that each victim seemed to have a symbol tattooed into their left wrist, a symbol that meant absolutely nothing to him in terms of gangs.

"As you can see these are five female and male victims varying in age from 12 to 69, and coming from multiple ethical backgrounds? He is all over the place! The authorities in Boston are having trouble keeping the press from publishing daily reports on the case at this point. Daisy Williams, the latest victim was a waitress at a popular bar and people are getting anxious. Especially since the bodies are so horrific when found. I mean i will have to watch at least two hours of bunny pictures to conjure away all this evilness…"

\- "Garcia what did you find about the tattoos?" He asked the women who was moaning about the state of the bodies while keeping her professionalism, as only she could do.

\- "Well, Doctor, from what I have gathered they just represent the animal, there is no gang or any other type of group or prison symbol that is specifically like this."

\- "The animal is quite specific though…" Hotch started to say before Spencer interrupted to divulge what he felt to be important.

\- "Yes a phoenix represents rebirth and reincarnation, eternal life if you will. It is the opposite of what happened to those victims. Do you think he wanted to kill them in a horrific way because of it somehow?"

\- "I think for now we should focus on finding a link between the victims, other then the tattoo. We might discover its meaning there?" asked Emily.

\- "Yes i think that is the best solution. But guys did you see what else he did to them? He took their eyes off! Enucleators are very rare!" Interjected Morgan.

\- "Yes they represent less then one percent of our cases!" Said Spencer. "Maybe taking their eyes off has something to do with the tattoo, not allowing to move on to the other life? The Egyptians used to put coins of money on the eyes of their dead to ensure a safe passage. Maybe by removing the eyes he forces them to continue to endure the torture in their death?

\- I think it is a theory worse looking into but for now we need to go, the authorities in Boston are waiting for us." Hotch reminded the team.

As they all gathered their files and stood up to go search their go-bags Spencer felt as weird: like this case was somehow defining for the team, or was it just for him?

But he dismissed the feeling: it was absurd, they had worked hundreds of cases, and while enucleators were rare, they were cases they had seen before. Thought Spencer, only realising after he thought it that he just made a pun. This little bit of unexpected humour made him forget about the strange feeling that surrounded him.

He took his go-bag from his locker and followed the team to the plane.

 _AN:_

 _I plan to make them meet around chapter 4. I want to set up a bit more of background for Hermione first._

 _I know this idea of her working with the team as already been done before so i will try to find a different approach, and I also like the idea a lot (sue me ;) )_

 _Reviews are appreciated._


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER**

Anything that you recognise is from the brilliant authors of Criminal Minds, particularly Jeff Davis, and the magnificent JK Rowling's universe.

 **CHAPTER 3 :** **A chance encounter**

Hermione smiled politely at the students exiting the room, wishing that they would hurry up so that she could go home to finish the book on miscarriages of justice she had borrowed from a friend.

Working for the Faculty did have its perks, she thought, as she organised her notes on the social anthropologic nature of collectors. She taught her students to analyse the way the compulsion of collecting mementos from distinctive moments of owns life could be linked to an underdeveloped sense of belonging in a community. As an anthropologist she taught them that to collect or gather precious objects that may seem random to a third party meant that the individual felt a very distinctive need to be close to the moment which the memento alluded to. But as an behavioural analyst she taught them that the persons who collected those mementos have a distinctive pattern in their mind, a map as to how and when those fit into place. It was not dissimilar to the way very young children remember objects that are associated with their parents and can draw the image of said object from memory, but not the face of the parent.

Exiting the building Hermione made her way to her favourite part of the campus, the library, to extend the loan on the book she was currently reading. It wasn't that she had not finished it, she could read 1.500 words per minute, whereas the general individual could only read around 200-250 words, but she found it so interesting that she wanted to read it more in depth : make notes of its most important passages and so on. She did not really need to note quotes as she could remember them from memory, but she liked having the written words around her. And as the book in question was quite expensive and offered in few libraries taking notes was the ideal solution. As she wandered around the campus she reflected upon the fact that she was nearly the same age as all those postgraduates students that were still undertaking classes. But being an overachiever she had already completed an PHD in criminal sciences and a bachelor in anthropology.

Her young age was sometimes a factor of difficulty in the classroom, while she was respected by her peers and her students in general, she sometimes had to remind the ones coming to see her to speak to her in a way that suited her status as a TA. She may be young and could probably relate with them, but she insisted on separating herself from them.

The war had left her weary of very close relationships, especially in the muggle world, as she would have to hide her true self to the person whom she befriended. Of course she was in amicable terms with most of the faculty and in especially good terms with the professor whose classes she often supervised as a TA. But even Angela Donovan was kept at a close distance. It was probably for the best, thought Hermione, as she approached the library.

The building in itself was indistinctive: it was built in the same brownish colour all the founders had seem to prefer, but it was the flow of students going in and out of the building that made it so distinctive. For a fervent reader like Hermione seeing so many students and faculty members walking threw those doors was a beautiful sight. It showed that knowledge still held power, that books still held regard in the eyes of her peers in a world were everything seemed to digitalise. She had no qualms, really, with the advancement of technology, but she felt that nothing could ever beat the feel of paper between her fingers. She loved holding books, the way the creases of the pages from previous readers meant that this knowledge had been shared, appreciated and consumed before her; the smell of old books always bringing a smile on her face. She loved reading and discovering, but teaching had also brought up a new appreciation for admiring the people around her as they immersed themselves in books and lost track of time.

Walking up to the front desk she asked the lady seated there to add a week on from the expiration date of her loan. Hermione knew her well, Emily was a sixty-something-year-old woman with a brown wig, covering the ravages of chemotherapy, and a smile that would disarm the most solemn person. They had bonded over their love of Shakespeare when Hermione first arrived in Seattle, and actually held a monthly tea date where they expanded theories on who would be the next best selling author of the year. As she waited for the computer to start calculating and accepting the request Emily tried to initiate a conversation with Hermione on the new book she was reading, a thriller written by a Venezuelan author whose name she could not pronounce, when the phone rang and she excused herself to respond. Hermione wasn't deterred in the slightest and started perusing the books that the library left on holders in its entrance hall. They were usually books written by Faculty members for whom the library made a sort of promotion. Hermione was surprised to find her book on the bottom rack, a lone copy seemingly forgotten there by students and faculty members passing by. A book Hermione had written under her first name only, not wanting to attract to much attention on herself, but all the same desiring to keep the one thing her dead parents had put a lot of thought into : her name.

She had been surprised, even astonished, to the general enthusiastic, dare she say phenomenal, response she got from readers. The book she had written on the effects of trauma on the mind of pre-pubescent teens, teenagers and young adults, had had a relatively good start at first, and she thought that was all their was to it. But some celebrity she had never heard of, a starlet from a young adult movie, had gushed about her book in a press interview about her daily life and every student and faculty members from her university and the cities surrounding it had immediately rushed to buy the book in question. From then on the sales of _The Mind In the Tempest of War_ had increased to such a level that Hermione had had to change publishers because the little local company that her printed her books could not keep up with the demands. Now a somewhat famous American author, Hermione could not really be anonymous inside her own Faculty.

Which probably explains why one of her favorite contemporary author just tapped on her shoulder:

As Hermione turned around to talk to what she surmised to be a student in need of direction inside of the library she was presented with the face of one David Rossi. The man was exactly as the picture on his book made him appear to be : a perceptive, smart-looking man going through his fifties. But behind that general exterior she was met with a smiling face and inquisitive eyes that she did not expect to ever be set on her.

\- "You are Hermione Granger aren't you?" He asked, even though his tone suggested that he was fairly certain that it was the case.

\- "Euh…. Yes I am in fact. It is an honour to meet you Mr Rossi." She responded, even though a part of her was astonished that the man knew who she was. She may be famous in the Wizarding World, but in the muggle world Hermione was just a regular TA, with just one book to show for.

\- "I have been meaning to talk to you at some point this year", answered the man. "I wanted to discuss with you the reasons you never answered that letter…" he started saying, but Hermione's eyes grew huge as his train of thought and she interrupted him.

\- "I am not, nor was I at the time, in a position to accept such an offer. Working for the government has nothing to do with it, before you ask, I just do not think I would appreciate the emotional and physical demands of such a job. Plus I never trained for this.."

\- "I understand that you never went through the proper training but the articles the British Ministry made about your capacities would be enough to be considered as a consultant for the BAU." As a said that, Hermione felt the familiar paradoxal dread and excitement course through her: of course she had considered the offer, who wouldn't have? At the time she just had graduated from her first degree after Hogwarts and she was unsure of what to do with her life, so the offer was genuinely interesting. But she stopped her mind from going through that direction again and remembered why she had refused.

She just graduated from a place where the students surrounding her had gone through hell with her. And while she may have used theirs and her own experience to start her book before graduating, she was not ready for this kind of pressure again. The fear of not knowing where the "enemy" could come from, the idea of having to watch over her shoulder every day for the rest of her life had been unappealing at best! It wasn't that Hermione was afraid of taking the job, she was a Griffindor for Merlin's sake! But she was reluctant to add to the list of people who wanted her dead: the war may have had ended in her favour but the world was not a friendly place. Former Death Eaters were still managing to evade the Aurors, and while Hermione felt safe enough in the Muggle world, she was not about to advertise her location.

This particular point had almost made her stop the publication of her book when she suddenly realised the danger she could put on herself, but Harry had convinced her that she should live and live well. So the book was published and Hermione slept with her wand no only under her pillow, which was standard fare for war veterans, but clutched in her hand all night long.

Hermione realised that her thoughts had wondered off and that she wasn't paying attention to the man in front of her. She set about rectifying that and turning the offer, he was sure to make, down for the second time.

But has Hermione set eyes on her book she read the last word that was written on the back cover: "courageous". And that single epithet made her reconsider.

\- "Would your offer still stand?" She asked with a sense of foreboding.

The man stopped the description of his deception at her former refusal and answered with a smile:

"Yes, if your candidature is approved by the proper channels, as I am sure it would be, we would love to have you on a freelancer on our team. I use the term loosely you see, as we cannot fully integrate you as an agent, but you would go with us on cases and probably not on the field, definitely not at first, to help us solve those cases."

\- "I wouldn't have to come now to see those "proper channels" agents, would I?" Feeling like she was taking a turn in a direction she had forbidden herself to even look to before.

\- "No ! I would need to inform them of your application, if you could send me an updated resume, and you would probably be asked to come to an interview in a week's time in Quantico."

Hermione took ten more seconds to take a deep breath and realise the magnitude of what she was agreeing to, and answered with a polite smile - yet nervous, considering what she was about to do.

\- "Then I will send my resume and any information you may require as soon as possible. Does the former email address that was written on your letter still exist?"

Rossi had a small smile when he realised she kept the letter. Of course he knew many people would have kept a job offer from the FBI but he felt like this women could have done everything she wanted with her life, and for her to have kept the letter it meant that she really considered the offer.

\- "That would be perfect Miss Granger. Now I will not monopolise your time any longer, I will see you in two weeks time." he said with a smile. And just as he had came, he was gone.

Hermione stood there, her book still in her hands, with Emily looking at her strangely. _She had probably not expected me to get a job offer from the FBI_ , thought Hermione with a small smile.

She decided to exit the library and go for a walk to think about what she had just agreed to.

Taking this job offer could be life changing and had the potential to be wonderfully fulfilling; but it meant reopening hold wounds and dealing with a trauma she was not sure she herself had even overcome.

As Spencer settled into the hotel room for the night, he thought about the day he just had. After a relatively quick plane travel to Boston the team had met at the local Police Station to look at the evidence drawn by the officers. But appart from crime scenes photos and a few notes here and there, the board was quite blank.

Spencer had immediately asked for a map of the city to establish a geographical profile while the others had dispatched to the different crime scenes to draw a preliminary profile of the UNSUB. But in the end the locations seemed random, even though Spencer spent frustratingly long hours trying to ascertain a visual or at least sensical pattern to the red dots, but to no avail. The team came back with only one lead: the UNSUB was probably a man given his specific victimology and given the efforts needed to blitz attack his victims without anyone seeing or hearing anything.

The shower drops hitting his back made him groan as he let go of the days frustrations and thought about the bed that awaited him. Exiting the shower he dried himself, brushed his teeth and settled in bed with the book her was currently reading with always the same fascinated expression of his face, a book about the evolutions of teens' minds through war and trauma. What fascinated him the most about the book was that he felt the author had personally gone through war, even though it seemed unlikely, given the picture of the pretty twenty-something that was printed on the cover.

This author seemed very intelligent, and at the same time her picture reflected the image of an attractive young women. An attractive young women, who, at second glance appeared to have suffered some trauma herself.


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER**

Anything that you recognise is from the brilliant authors of Criminal Minds, particularly Jeff Davis, and the magnificent JK Rowling's universe.

 **AN:**

So sorry about the really long delay!

I started my fifth year at uni in a new city and I had to find a place to live and get my marks so it wasn't that easy to find the time to write. Then the semester really started and I did not really find the time to write ; and as time passes it is harder and harder to do so.

But I am back and this is a chapter for you. The other updates will come along soon I promise.

On another note you are SO MANY to have favoured and followed this story and I am amazed. Thank you guys!

As usual drop a comment if you want, it is always appreciated, and ENJOY.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 4 : PECULIAR**

The doors of the elevator to the Boston precinct opened and a dishevelled, sleepy and yawning Spencer got out. _This is going to be a long day_ he thought.

In fact, his day had started, two hours ago, when doctor Bellevue, from the Las Vegas sanitarium, called about his mother's current state of mind. Apparently Diana refused to sleep because she was convinced that something dangerous was going to happen to Spencer and that he would need her. Of course, considering the nature of Spencer's occupation, those dreams happened on occasion, but usually his mother was pacified with the doctors' reassurances that she could call her son in the morning. This time however, the doctors had called Spencer and he had spent the better part of an hour calming his mother and assuring her that he was fine, just in Boston and that was why the phone at his home address kept ringing, and that she knew she could join him on his cell phone. Diana had eventually calmed down and asked Spencer to be careful. Exhausted he had fallen asleep with the phone still in his hand.

Which is why he was so suddenly awakened when, thirty minutes later, JJ called to inform him that of a new development in their case, and the phone rang directly in his ear.

\- "Well Baby Girl, looks like Pretty Boy over here got up on he wrong foot …" He heard Morgan say from the bullpen. As he raised his head to answer to the tall man built like a personal trainer, Garcia chastised him:

\- Don't be to hard on my Boy Genius he obviously did not get enough sleep.

She then turned to Reid and asked : "What book was so interesting this time that you could not prevent yourself from reading into the night my Good Doctor?

\- It wasn't actually a book that woke me up. But since you asked, I have been reading a fascinating study about the minds of teens during - "

He never got to finish this because Morgan interrupted him:

\- "As fascinating as your intellectually challenging essay must have been JJ is here, which means Hotch will be waiting for us in the conference room…. and Prentiss just arrived."

Spencer followed the man's sight to look at the pretty brunette who was even less awake then him, - and he hadn't taken his second cup of coffee yet! -. She ignored the small gathering and simply headed to the conference room, just as JJ was going to the door to signal them all inside. The group followed and took their usual seat. One spot remaining vacant.

\- "David will join us on site since he was in Seattle for his vacation days ." Said Hotch, before anyone could ask about the Italian man.

Garcia got up and without prompting started the case review while JJ passed them all tablets, except for Spencer who still favoured his paper file.

\- "Well my lambs we have a _skeezy_ one for sure. She said, not even refraining from shuddering, which alerted Spencer to the potentially horrific sight to follow. Garcia may be the more sensible one of the team but she did not usually shudder while presenting cases.

Using the remote Garcia made photos appear at the same time as she presented the victims of such horrors. The first depicted a woman's body torn in unnatural angles and with a facial expression showing that she had died in extreme pain. But the most important, for the team of profilers, was that the women's eyes had been gauged out living black and bloody wholes where they should have been. The second photograph was a zoomed in picture of her eyeless face, which made them all cringe. The third picture showed the body of a young boy, who appeared to be no more then twelve, his body in the same tortured position, but his eyes where still, thankfully, present. The last picture was a very close up take on a sort of thin spoon, which sharp edges.

While the rest of the team started reading the case file for information on the victims, and the contortionist nature of the posing, Spencer searched through his paper file for the last picture: there it was, a close up on a sort of spoon, the word being the best spencer could come up with to describe this weird utensil.

Not being able to name the probable weapon used bothered Spencer, he prided himself in his search of knowledge and naming objects and behaviours was something he was particularly good at. He frowned turning the picture to look at it from a different angle.

\- "What is it Reid?" asked Hotch, as he saw that the youngest of the team was clearly puzzled about something.

\- "It's just the weapon left… I do not have any clue what it is. It feels like it is professionally made though, there is an indentation indicating a manufacturer of some kind." And true enough there was an indented word on the "spoon", but it was too small for Spencer to make out.

"Garcia can you enlarge the picture?" asked Hotch.

As the blond technician did so the team got the same puzzled look Spencer had before, it was impossible, even zoomed, to distinguish the name on the weapon.

\- " We will just have to wait and see on scene then Spence" said JJ, and the others nodded.

\- "In the mean time let's focus on what we know of this UNSUB". Said Hotch, in a voice that was loud enough for the whole team to refocus.

\- "Well enucleators are typically males, and loners, so he probably acts alone. Although two victims at once is a more complicated scenario, especially because they usually are antisocial and therefore not smooth talkers. That is probably why we should assume he did not move the bodies and probably blitz attacked them." Said Emily.

\- "For what I can tell the female is Agnes Martin, she is a French citizen residing in Boston because she conducted a class on anthropology. And she does have a tattoo. Unfortunately, we cannot see it with the picture because the UNSUB used some kind of object to make it totally unidentifiable. "Said Garcia. "As for the boy, well she does not have a son, so for now we have no idea who he is…" She said with a sigh. They all had the same feeling: children made cases so much more difficult to handle…

\- "The marks on the tattoo are probably a forensic counter-measure. But that would mean the killer has enough control to actually think about that, which is incoherent about what we know of enucleators. They usually act based on a delusion of some kind and try to rid the victim and the world of demons and other satanical figures." Said Morgan.

\- "Hum… the idea of forensic counter-measure bothers me", said Spencer. "Why would he leave the weapon behind then?".

\- "Perhaps it is some kind of message?" Said Hotch, "I mean it is a pretty specific tool… Anyway the ME is waiting for us and the local police is swamped so we should get going. Reid and Prentiss I want you to go see the ME, JJ stay here and contact the family members as soon as you have an identification on the boy, Garcia check out missing children's reports, Morgan you are with me, we are going to meet Rossi on sight. He should be back from Seattle by now.

The team gathered their files and left the room, a feeling of dread in the forefront of everyone's minds. Enucleators were messy and usually very prolific, as their mission oriented killings served a purpose never totally fulfilled.

Hermione woke up feeling tired and worn out. Tonight had been hard.

After almost falling asleep preparing the subject for the mid term at the campus library, she stumbled home to her little apartment an immediately fell asleep. However Morpheus was a fickle friend and she woke up multiple times during the night, plagued with dreams of the Final Battle. Faces of her dying friends and cries for help all blurred in her mind…

Sighing she left the comfort of her own bed to make her way slowly to the kitchen where the coffee machine waited for her like a beacon of hope. Turning on the machine the young women surveyed her flat from the neat pile of papers graded and ready for her next classes, her glasses perched on it, to the small single bed and average wardrobe. It was very minimalistic.

She approached the papers to check them a final time. The blacked rimed binoculars perched on the top of the pile, had became indispensable with the residue of the curses she suffered during the war. Her optical nerves, along with the others, had been stretched too tight and prolonged reading was impossible without having massive headaches. Something a bibliophile such as herself had had to remedy. Hence the glasses.

If she was honest with herself she did not really mind them, they gave her a _smart professor look_ which was perfect for the university, plus it made it that much harder to recognise her… for which she was eternally grateful.

After checking that everything was marked as it should be, which of course was the case as she was a perfectionist, Hermione turned towards her cellphone, silenced, which was emitting the tell tale sign of missed calls through the intermittent illumination of the screen. Three missed calls to be exact… Pressing the keys she listened to the message left behind:

\- "Hello this is Nathan, Angela's husband, we met once three months ago. … Anyway I am sorry for disturbing you but I cannot seem to reach Angela and I wanted to know if you could tell her to call me back as soon as you see her. I am sure she is just very busy with work but … you never know. Thanks."

Strange, thought Hermione, she had seen Angela Friday morning for the weekly brief and she did not seem stressed, or at least no more then usual. Well it is still early, she thought, I will try calling her in a few hours.

She drank the remaining coffee from her cup and made her bag for the day, taking her class notes and her book. Personal book that is, it was a Sunday after all. She took her keys from the little bowl in the entry way, closed her door and headed for her favorite location: The Lair.

This ominous sounding location was in fact a heaven in disguise for a bibliophile such as herself. Set in the basement of a cosy little coffee shop this bookstore was a gem for the avid readers of Seattle. Composed of two separate rooms, each housings hundreds of books, journals and the eclectic comics, the shop was little known but for the aficionados. In fact she has stumbled upon it by accident when reading a book, ironic isn't it? She was trying to avoid the crowded shopping place and took a detour in the back alleys when she found this treasure. Since then, she made regular visits to the shop, to satisfy her urge for non technical books, since those could be found in the campus library.

Opening the wooden door to the establishment Hermione was suddenly overwhelmed with the feeling of being watched. Hyper-vigilance being rewired in her brained since Moody atoned his first "Constant Vigilance" speech, she stopped mid step and took a look behind her. The small alley was deserted except for a couple walking hand in hand and going towards the main road, and an old lady slowly walking towards the little flower shop, the only other business in the alley.

Discounting her feeling as paranoia Hermione entered the small cafe and smiled at Thomas, the middle aged man who co-owned the place with his life partner Will. Both muggles had taken a liking to Hermione when she first arrived as they shared a common interest: an endless love of books.

\- "Well hello! Been a few weeks since we have seen you here, we though you might have gone blind and could not read anymore, seeing as probably read the two books you borrowed on the first night of having them !" He said a smile on his face.

Hermione chuckled: "Sorry Tom I was very busy with the semester ! How are you and Will? Business going well?"

"Well you know how it is around here, pretty quiet apart from the bibliophiles such as ourselves. Though there is a new guy coming around, always wants books on voodoo magic, not that such a thing is real of course" he said with a laugh..

Hermione gave him a tight smile and laughed, but she was not worried so she let it go. Giving him a small sign of the head she took the descending staircase in search of new reading material.

Taking a big breath Hermione welcomed the smell and sight of all books as one would greet an old friend. Or maybe they were the ones that greeted her? In any case she lost herself in the pursuit of a good book, reading back covers at an alarmingly fast rate, looking for this precious rare pearl. She never truly felt herself but with a book in hand, and considering that her social life was minimal here: being friends with a handful of people, Tom and Will included, she appreciated even more the silent solace a book provided.

As she ploughed through the extensive collection she forgot all about the phone call she received or the odd voodoo reader. She only paused in her lecture once when she found a book by a certain David Rossi.


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own the Harry Potter franchise, nor the Criminal Minds series. Those works belong to JK Rowling and Jeff Davis as well as the Mark Gordon Company and CBS, respectively.

 **AN:**

I am really sorry about the delay, at first there were exams and Christmas, and then the semester started again and i lost track of time. My personal life is really filled at the moment, but i will try to be more regular.

Your reactions are really encouraging, thank you for those who commented, favoured or followed, as a first story i am a little surprised by such a positive response.

Anyway, enough about my personal ramblings, here's a long chapter that i know you will enjoy. The next one is coming on really soon.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 5 : ABOUT HERMIONE**

It was five AM and the due was still setting on the petals and leaves around the apartment complex. A lingering sent of rain was present in the air, a sent that Hermione had many names for… : _petrichor,_ the technical term for the sent of the earth after rain, the perfect smell to describe the way the earth feels rejuvenated after the passage of a cloud.

But others came to mind, such as England or _Home_. A home she had left behind in a hasted decision to stop the status quo that had been her life outside of her studies, and to get away from the media frenzy that didn't seem to die down after the years. A home she seldom allowed herself to think about, not wishing to be lost in a memory.

Home was also a complicated word in itself for Hermione. Reminding her of people she was now alien to, either of her own making, or because of really unfortunate circumstances. A long time ago, or what felt like it al least, home had been a lovely two stories house where roses always overflowed from vases and candies where a rare and indulgent treat. Then home became a castle on the coasts of Scotland as Hermione distanced herself from her biological family to learn about her world, or at least a world she had tried to insert herself into. Not being a native had meant being confronted with bigotry, judgment, hate and most of all… _doub_ t.

But Hogwarts had also been a place of growth and knowledge, where friendships had been forged from fear and courage, from the determined way two eleven year old boys decided that saving a little girl from a troll was more important then protecting themselves from death, injury… or worse _expulsion_!

The idyllic castle was unfortunately the stage for many deaths and traumatic sights at the end of her teen years, forcing a new image of chaos in such a beautiful and sacred place. A home that had been violated by carnage, lust for power and the tearing of souls for a "Greater good" that seemed so important at the time. Yet sometimes Hermione wondered if Dumbledore had been wrong in his machiavellian view of the "Greater Good". Didn't he plan for Harry to be a lamb to slaughter? Weren't the chess game, the broom, the potion test and the Mirror of Erised tests? Was he so manipulative that he lacked empathy? Hermione often pondered about the reasons and motivation of one Albus Percival Wulfric Dumbledore, and her new degrees often left her with shivers.

All those thoughts and experiences were the reason why Hermione wrote.

She had wanted an outlet after the war, something that her friends seemed reluctant to give her. Harry because he was too stunted to realise her deeper pain and wanted to only feel the joy of not having the weight of the world on his shoulders - _literaly_ -, Ron because his emotions always ruled his world and came first. He had been incapable and unwilling to help, not even seeing past his own grief and pain. Ginny hadn't really been there for her because the girl was grieving her brother. Plus, the year on the run changed things. There previous friendship had been frayed. Ginny, even though she didn't mean to, resented the proximity between Harry and Hermione that only seemed to flourish after the Final Battle and after rumours of Ron's departure in the middle of the hunt started to flow.

Rumours which source was still unknown nowadays, but that had destroyed the picture perfect image of the Golden Trio in the eyes of the Wizarding World. Ron had been separated from them in the public opinion and asked to justify his actions. Which he did by blaming Hermione's and Harry's proximity. A move that had made Hermione vulnerable because Harry was too revered to be touched. He had also been too tired to try and defend her, and Hermione had been left on her own devices as Mrs Weasley took her son's side and Ginny benefitted from the beginning her estrangement from Harry.

The breaks in those relationships had pushed Hermione towards other friendly figures such as Remus, Tonks and Minerva. Remus had been her rock, a figure between a father and a brother to help her brave the storm; Tonks had made her laugh with her clumsiness and her crazy motherly ideas of what Teddy should wear. Finally Minerva had been her mentor, her lighthouse in the tempest. In truth Hermione had been separated from the Weasley's and Harry before the break up with Ron, it was just a question of time.

She had started writing when so few people seemed to take the time to appreciate her pain. Finding a sense of cleansing in the simple act of laying it all on paper. She hadn't thought about publishing or even making someone else read what she thought were trivialities. Her book had been born from loneliness… A loneliness that she had exiled herself in for month before deciding to simply leave. If her sudden departure had surprised all it was because they had simply been too lazy to reach for her in the first place, and the few that had were too busy with their own lives to really give her the attention she needed to heal.

So Hermione, the Princess of Griffindor, the Brightest Witch of her Age, had done the only thing she could do to save herself : she had left…

And here she was, at five AM, in her little apartment, contemplating her life of carefully chosen relationships.

A life that seemed to shorten by the second, and where physical and emotional pain kept reappearing despite isolation and chosen loneliness…

* * *

Aaron Hotchner was conflicted.

The team he presently directed was operational, fully functional and very efficient. So adding another member could disturb the balance. But at the same time this women's credentials were really amazing, and could present themselves as real assets. And the fact that David Rossi was the one currently asking him to look into it, made this young women even more intriguing. Plus the BRASS had been asking him to revamp the team with fresh blood.

She had a very impressive academic background which was always a plus in the high level positions of the FBI, but as Spencer Reid was already on the team, her presence may seem redundant. Her IQ even surpassed that of Reid's by a few points, with an impressive 190. The fact that this women had never been spotted before and was a College TA was baffling ! Yes she was young but she obviously was a genius, in the literal sense of the word.

How had she managed to fly below the radar?

That question was the real problem for Hotch, she seemed perfect, but perfect did not exist. So where had she been? What secrets of her past could be big enough to prevent her from seeking a more fulfilling and demanding position?

Moreover the issue of her book still remained: how did such a young female write about a subject such as the teenage mind and war? She could not be from a country in war and as far as he could tell she had never been in the Middle East. Hermione Granger was a puzzle…

A puzzle that only one thing could unravel : the mad computer skills of one Penelope Garcia.

Penelope Garcia had arrived in her office even earlier then the 7.30 am not mandated, but usually appointed office time. But when she set to open the door she found not one, but three team members waiting for her with surprisingly blank face expressions: her boss Sir Hotch - as she alone called him in the privacy of her mind - JJ, and David Rossi.

\- "Sir, err… Good morning. Good morning to you all… Is there an issue? Am I in trouble? … I know i shouldn't have sent those emails from this computer to the man selling baby penguins in the internet, but Sir… Baby penguins… those poor defenceless creatures?"

\- "We will address this issue at a latter time Garcia", said Hotch with a shake of the head. "At present we need you to look into anything you can find about this young women."

And has he said that a paper file with Hermione's photo and the few relevant informations they possessed were passed to the technical analyst.

\- "JJ will need to be informed if anything… _shady_ comes to the surface, as she will contact Miss Granger for an interview if you do not find such information.

\- Of course Sir, JJ will have that information as soon as possible."

As the group left the office Garcia opened what she presumed was the file of a seasoned FBI, or government official of some sort. But she was surprised by a photo of a smiling brunette with beautiful wavy hair, if a bit puffy, and wide dark hazel eyes smiling at her from the cover of a book. A young female who seemed to have a big scar that peaked out from both sides of her collar…

\- "Right Baby Girl, let's find out about this lovely creature.. Oh I hate going about the lives of innocent looking females, i feel like a pervert!"

Garcia shivered one time and then the uneasiness disappeared out of her system as she got her mojo.

The first things she found were her employment records at the university of Seattle, as well as an old offer from the FBI that Miss Granger had declined, followed by her ID card, which indicated that the young women was actually British, and school records from age 4 to 11, then her various postgraduate degrees in Criminal Science - A PHD no less -, Anthropology, and Sociology.

How on earth did she manage to obtain that many degrees? Garcia went back to the ID provided and found, that indeed, this young women was still in her twenties.

\- " Well the Good Doctor might just have some competition…" She thought with a smile.

Continuing her searching she unearthed a new qualification that baffled her: that young Miss Granger had a degree in something called "The Chemistry of Brews". Which was a baffling subject ! She might have to ask Doctor Reid about it…

On a personal level there wasn't much to find about young Miss Granger, her parents had died in a tragic car accident when she was just nineteen, leaving her with some small debts and the family home. But Hermione had sold it as soon as possible and had moved on with her studies to finally set foot in America. Where she had wrote a book, a book that seemed to do very well in the academic sphere as far as she could tell…

Who was this young women that tragedy seemed to have struck? And what did she do with her life from ages 11 to 19? There wasn't any school records as far as Garcia was concerned, just a vague mention of Scotland.

\- " Well, i'll just have to put a question mark on that and dig in." Said the blond computer genius as she opened more advanced softwares.

But twenty minutes later the schooling of one Hermione Granger was still a mystery…

A mystery, Garcia decided, that Sir Hotch could uncover while interviewing this young _brilliant_ author. Because she was _definitly_ an interesting candidate, and the fact that the FBI was interested in her for the second time meant that this Hermione was definitely worth meeting.

\- "I will have to sent the Young Doctor Reid on an errand that would make the two geniuses meet…" Said Garcia while she laughed. Matchmaking was definitely interesting. And if her delicious statue of chocolate thunder wasn't up to the task, she knew of a certain Emily Prentiss that was dying to help young Reid. With that thought in mind she sent a text to the aforementioned accomplice :

" Found Reid's soulmate ! Come see me ASAP :) ".


	6. Chapter 6

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own the Harry Potter franchise, nor the Criminal Minds series. Because unfortunately I am neither JK Rowling, nor Jeff Davis.

 **AN:**

Two chapters in a day, because you guys have been very patient and because we all want our geniuses to meet.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 6: A TEAMMATE POTENTIALLY PERFECT**

"Found Reid's soulmate! Come see me ASAP :) ".

This was the last thing Emily Prentiss expected to get on her phone at 8 in the morning, while decluttering her desk from all the paperwork that she had just been sorting through.

\- "What are you up to Garcia?" She though, while secretly glancing at her younger male colleague, who was engrossed in yet another manuscript about psychology.

Everyone in the team knew that Spencer was comfortably settled in his life in the BAU. He liked working long hours and getting to travel across the country, because it provided him with food for his mind, and distracted him from his own loneliness. Not to say that Spencer did not have friends, but he was particular in his relationships. He knew that meeting new people was hard for him because he could come across as pedantic or worse, arrogant, when meeting strangers. His inability to stop spouting his vast knowledge made him endearing for the team, but awkward in the eyes of a stranger. Let's face it Reid wasn't good at casual encounters.

It wasn't really his fault, dealing with his mother probably didn't provide much time to think about meeting new people, and his savant mind made him too intellectual for most people he met anyway. This meant a lonely existence for Spencer, as far as living outside of the BAU was concerned. But the novelty of cases couldn't be enough to satisfy him? Could it? Everyone needed human interaction right?

As Emily thought about her friend, some of the team had started assembling to talk about the case.

Rossi had just had the time to go from Seattle to Boston before the local authorities had decided to refuse FBI assistance, and while it usually wasn't common, it could happen. It had been unexpected because they had already started to work over the case. But considering that the crimes hadn't crossed State lines and that they hadn't been invited, there wasn't much the team could do.

As horrible as it sounded they needed a new body to make the case serial and give them enough ammunition to demand to be reinstated.

JJ had already apologised profusely to Hotch over the issue, but he couldn't really fault her. They had been invited, at first…. When the local authorities changed their minds it meant that they wanted to keep it local and low profile, or that the big-guy in town wanted to make a name for themselves. In this particular instance, judging by the deputy chief's and the chief's reaction to their arrival, it would seem it was the latter.

The informal gathering about the case was held by Morgan, Reid and JJ as they discussed the level of violence of the crime scene, and the pictures.

\- " Maybe we can pick it up tomorrow guys, I mean JJ … if we you are here talking to us it means we probably don't have a case right ?" asked Morgan, while cleaning his desk.

\- "Technically no, you are free to go. But Hotch wants a debrief tomorrow morning at 8." responded JJ. She was actually glad to be able to go home and sleep in her own bed, even though it was 8.37 am. The long hours could become tiresome.

\- "Great, well i am out of here." Said Morgan. "What are you doing Pretty Boy?"

\- "I want to actually hang out here a little, I slept on the plane and I want to finish this chapter…" Spencer's voice had already lowered as he immersed himself into his reading.

As the others were cleaning their desks Rossi and Hotch appeared from the latter's office, and peered over the bullpen.

\- "You can all go home for the day" said Hotch.

\- "GREAT! ", said Garcia as she held a brown paper file containing the information she had dug out about this mystery women. "I actually have the file you asked for Sir. It's not much honestly, this Hermione doesn't really have an online presence." She said jovially, while giving the file to Hotch. She wasn't happy about the lack of information but she had been awake in her room until 3 am last night and was happy to go home as four hours of sleep didn't cut it.

She then turned to her favourite Doctor and approached him slowly, enjoying the fact that he was so engrossed in his book that he was oblivious to her actions.

While she was doing so Derek and JJ left, but Emily, intrigued by Garcia's text decided to stay behind and do what profilers are good at : observe.

\- "Sooo… what are you reading my favourite intellectual?" She asked while giving no particular interest to the book, but wanting to actually see Reid's mindset.

Spencer paused and looked at Garcia suspiciously:

\- "You never ask me for that sort of information. So i will ask this in return: can i do something for you Garcia?"

\- "Oh my Genius, nothing gets past you… I was just wondering if there was a special someone in your life that we don't know about?"

\- "Euh… I don't really know what you mean… No… there… isn't" Said Spencer slowly as a blush quickly developed on his cheeks, he didn't like talking about his inexistent love life.

\- "Garcia was asking, interjected Emily, because apparently she found a woman you would get along with perfectly, A _soulmate_ were her exact words." Said Emily, taking a certain pleasure in seeing his blush deepen and watching Garcia send her a death glare, as her colleague deplored her lack of tact.

\- "Yes and I can't tell you anything about her just yet, lover boy, because she may be coming to join the team." Said Garcia casually.

\- "Well… euh…. please don't try to set me up guys. It's rare enough that a women want to date me, they usually find me boring or pretentious…" Said Spencer in a small voice. "Honestly it isn't worth the effort right now."

\- "Don't say that, said Emily. There are some women out there for you Spencer. But maybe we should let you find them yourself…" Sending a meaningful look at Garcia.

\- "Fine ! Huffed the tech expert, date on your own terms! But it would have been so much fun to play matchmaker with this one…" She said in a longing voice.

Spencer decided to let the two women discuss this potential love interest, that would probably find him boring anyway, As he got back to his fascinating book. It wasn't as interesting as the one he had read by a certain Hermione, because this particular book was on a subject he knew too much of already to be fascinated, but it still provided him intellectual company.

Spencer kept reading on for an hour, not realising that time had passed.

He wasn't aware of the fact that while he was reading Hotch and Rossi had decided to interview a certain young women and that she was on her way to Virginia, from Seattle. A flight of a few hours that the FBI paid for.

As time flew Spencer remained ignorant of it, captivated as he was by his reading. Hotch and Rossi had both settled the questions they wanted to ask for their interview and had decided to go get breakfast and some sleep beforehand.

The minutes turned into hours and at 4 pm, Spencer finally raised his head as a he felt a mild headache from constant reading. Surprised at the time he decided to get a coffee, with milk since he needed to sleep, and leave the bullpen to head home.

But as he was standing, waiting for the elevator, the door opened and in his sleepy state he missed the brunette engrossed in a book, exiting the elevator.

His coffee spilled on the floor between them and on their shoes, but as Spencer was about to apologise for his inattention he raised his head to discover a lovely creature…

\- "I…euh… I am so sorry, miss…. I am not usually this clumsy, I… here". he said, getting tissues from his gilet. He was still startled by the fact that this women reminded him of someone, someone he had seen. His memory couldn't let him forget faces. And what's more her face was associated with a book he had enjoyed very much!

She started to talk, but he cut her off, forgetting his manners:

\- "You are Hermione right? I mean that's your name? … I read your book it's very interesting how you seem so aware of the particular struggles of this cluster of people… "

Hermione was confused - hot from the coffee that had thankfully been luck warmed enough from added milk that it didn't burn her - and a bit baffled by this young man. A young man who seemed entranced by simply meeting her, if his state was any indication.

She knew the look he was giving her well: it had come with the adoration that had been first present after the War, the people meeting her on the street thanking her for her part. That was before the trio had started to crumble… But she hadn't been looked in that way for a long time. Sure there had been the audacious students who wanted a chance at dating their TA, but she always politely, if a bit coldly, turned them down.

As she though of this for a few seconds she also looked at the young man in front of her, apart from his somewhat old or " _teachery_ " clothing style, he was attractive enough. Not in a striking way, but his facial features were sharp and angular, he had soft light brown eyes, with a hint of green and his teeth were perfectly set - a feature that her parent's occupation had made her hyper aware of. His hair was also quite shiny and at a length that meant he had to curl strands behind his ears, which was endearing. He was also quite tall and towered over her, as he still was very close to her.

She cut his ramblings:

\- "No please, she said, with a crisp British accent he hadn't expected, i should have watched were I was going, I was just so engrossed in _Great Expectations_ that I didn't look if the coast was clear.." She joked.

But Spencer had stopped listening at the mention of the book she was reading, it was rare to find people in this building reading Dickens… So for this lovely women to be reading one of his favourites, it was just a randomly pleasing experience.

All sleep fell out of his system and he remembered the tissues he still held and gave one to her. Finding an excuse to actually touch her. She accepted it and set about cleaning her shoes, and as she slowly started rising she realised that this young man was still standing very close to her, and even though he seemed friendly enough she was still intrigued about how he knew her name, and why he was so awestruck.

She was surprised to see a hand enter her line of vision as he tried to help her up. Physical contact was usually something she shied away from since the War - a trait Spencer also possessed due to his own insecurities - but it seemed natural enough to accept the hand of this stranger.

As they were both upright again Spencer stepped away, realising that he was blocking her way out of the escalator. She passed by him and he got a whiff of a soft subtle feminine fragrance, not all empowering like Garcia's or striking like JJ and Emily. This was floral and natural, almost absent. But for Spencer it was riveting.

So instead of going home he did something completely out of character:

\- "Since i ruined my coffee and at the same occasion your shoes by being so clumsy, would you be interested in my offer of coffee as an apology?" he asked without rambling.

\- "Well you could start by telling me how you know my book…"


	7. Chapter 7

**DISCLAIMER:**

I don't own the Harry Potter series or Criminal minds. Those belong to JK Rowling and Jeff Davis.

 **AN:**

Thanks to all of you who have followed or favoured this story. Feel free to comment on what you like or dislike it helps steer the story along.

Thanks for those of you who have commented on liking the way I made them meet. I though that clumsiness would be funny, plus Spencer would be a bit out of his element which would be fun. Don't worry Hermione is too.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 7 : INTERVIEWS**

Getting her professional looking suit wet upon arrival hadn't been part of Hermione's plan.

The feeling of very hot splashes of beverage on her decoletage should have made any other person cry out in pain. But Hermione only cringed in discomfort at the sensation of her lavender blouse slowly becoming attached to her skin. Where every person would have cringed in pain, her main concern was decency. Surely this wasn't a decent way to meet a potential future employer? With a shirt sticking to your curves.. it rather felt indecent… Especially in front of a male co-worker.. But getting changed wasn't really a possibility at this point.  
The idea of a change of attire was completely out of the mind of the young agent in front of her.  
And that wasn't because he was entranced by the curves that had been revealed by the spill, nor was it because he was aware of the woman's high pain tolerance. No, as much as Spencer Reid was a man, his mind ruled his interactions before any other body part… and right now is mind was stuck on a sentence:  
" _Well you could start by telling me how you know my book…_ "

It wasn't the question in itself that had intrigued the young profiler, but the tone taken. This Hermione had seemed friendly enough when interacting with him and talking about Dickens, but as soon as Spencer had mentioned her name the look in her eyes had changed to suspicion and doubt. That look and Spencer's profiler training were the real reason why the specks of coffee marking her breasts hadn't yet been noticed by Spencer.  
It was as though she was expecting a confrontation, as though him knowing her name was a danger to her in some way.  
Spencer chuckled, a bit lost and out of his element, entranced and confused at the same time by this slip of a woman  
"I… err… My apologies, my name is Spencer Reid and I work here in the FBI. I don't know anything about you personally I just read your book as I said previously. It is really impressive how you managed to determine how much of an impact the decisions taken in the aftermath of trauma can affect a person's psyche, especially teenage minds, as they are ever changing…."  
Spencer could have continued on a developed comparison between her own discoveries and analysis and the ones of renowned child phsychiatrics, but he seemed to realise that the question did not warrant such a detailed response.  
"I am sorry, I tend to go on when a subject fascinates me…"

Hermione smiled, deciding that agreeing with his offer of coffee was the easiest way to drive this conversation forward.  
"There is nothing wrong with being fascinated with human behaviour, I tend to find it brilliantly fascinating too…."  
She would have continued but she realised that her companion had his eyes set on her decoletage, a thought that would have made her defend herself as a feminist and chastise any potential alpha male incapable of not staring at a woman's breasts. But those beautiful brown and green eyes hold concern and reconnaissance. A look very different from lust.  
This particularly searching look, probably due to the attention to details that was ingrained in being a profiler, made her uncomfortable because it meant questions, questions she did not and would not answer.  
"Excuse me, while I clean myself up….."

Hermione did not really give the young profiler time to process the change of discourse as she focused on passing past him in search from the facilities, to clean herself up. The hot liquid wasn't uncomfortable in the least, which would be strange for any other person but herself, but it gave her an excuse to clear her mind and process this strange encounter.  
The last time she had been caught of guard had been when she had met David Rossi, BAU agent, because he remembered her and that made her uncomfortable in principle. She was supposed to blend in, not distinguish herself. Having a bull's eye on her back was exactly what she had avoided for years, leaving Britain and the Wizarding World.  
Did she want this job? A high profile profession that would deter her progress?  
If Hermione was honest with herself she was a bit dissatisfied with her current life, it held merits surely, and being a TA was gratifying for a bookworm such as herself. But it wasn't particularly challenging intellectually. So this offer had merits.  
Yes! She would be a great asset to the BAU, and what's more important, this would fill her lonely life with a purpose. Surely keeping her coworkers at a polite arms' length would be easy, she had done it by now.  
Opening the doors to the lavatories, Hermione was immediately confronted with her reflexion in the bathroom mirror. In itself it wasn't a concern at all, she saw herself quite regularly. But what bothered her was that she understood the searching look of this Spencer Reid… It wasn't her breasts that had been scrutinised. No, it was the 5 inches violet scar that looked like an angry and recent burn pattern. A scar that crossed her breasts and finished under her left bra strap.  
"Great…. Now I'll have an overly curious coworker…" She mused aloud.  
There wasn't much she could do about it but hope that he was tactful enough not to directly mention it. She splashed water on her blouse to remove as much of the stain as possible, covered herself, and exited the lavatory after taking a big breath. At least this young man seemed to like to babble, she could avoid personal questions. It would be a good distraction, and he seemed well read, that was always a plus…

Spencer was completely engrossed in his thoughts as he poured two cups of coffee while waiting for Hermione.  
His thoughts were a little jumbled, between meeting the author a book he just read, and discovering that she was even prettier in person, and making a fool of himself…  
"It's not as though you are good at first impressions…" he told himself. "There is a reason why you are alone…"  
Those self-depreciating thoughts were abandoned fast, and replaced by only a persistent one. His photographic memory made it impossible for him to forget the blueish scar that ran along her left side. It looked like a bad one, Spencer was no stranger to scars and flesh wounds, his daily job giving him enough images to give nightmares to any man, woman or child. But the thought of this scar on this woman seemed wrong, like a blasphemy on her pearl white skin. Like a wrong that needed to be set right.

Lost as he was Spencer failed to see the object of his thoughts as she approached him to collect the coffee he had offered, with a determined look on her face.  
"Thank you… Mr Reid." Hermione said as she set her hand on the free cup and startled the young man at the same time.  
"Err.. You're welcome.. You don't have to call me that, technically it would be Doctor Reid… But you can call me Spencer." He rambled along.  
She smiled and nodded. _He really is adorable,_ she thought, before recovering herself.  
"Well… Spencer", she said his name slowly and deliberately, "You're right I should probably call you by your first name, seeing as you called me by mine first..." She added with a smirk.  
She watched, fascinated, as her remark caused a blush to develop on Spencer's cheeks, and deciding to put him out of his misery she asked:  
"And what exactly are you of doctor of _Spencer_? "  
She took note of his pupils dilating a little as her use of his name, but let him answer.  
"Well… I hold three B.A.s in Psychology, Sociology and Philosophy, a Ph.D. in Chemistry and Engineering as well as a Ph.D. in Mathematics from Caltech…" His voice lowered to nothing as he realised how much he had divulged. _Why did this woman make him loose his aloofness?_ It was disconcerting.  
Hermione's eyes had widened at the mention of the man's qualifications, not only was he polite and quite handsome, but he was provably a genius! Her general caution when meeting people was balanced with her interest. She wanted to know more about him, he seemed too young to so many degrees. She understood brilliance and academic excellence, but this was as though this man had spent his entire life studying.  
He looked to be what? 26-27? How on earth did he get so many diplomas?  
Before both of them could ask the questions that were bubbling behind the surface the elevator doors opened.

* * *

Hotch and Rossi stepped out, engrossed in a conversation about Gideon's jokes on a case they had solved a long time ago with a BAU…  
Spencer smiled at the anecdote while Hermione straightened her clothing and put her half empty coffee cup down, recognising agent Rossi from his visit in Seattle.  
As she was about to head their way agent Rossi recognised her and smiled, _of course the two geniuses would get along…_ He thought.  
Focussing on the young woman, David held his hand out.  
"Miss Granger, thank you for being here, I hope you haven't been waiting too long. This is SAA Hotchner, the head of the BAU, and I see you have met SAA Reid…" he added while looking at his younger colleague with a kind smile, that turned into a smirk.  
Spencer ignored David's antics, to concentrate on Hermione as she shook hands with Hotch.  
"SAA Hotchner, it's a pleasure to meet you."  
"You as well Miss Granger, why don't we start the meeting now, seeing as you are here?" He added in his professional tone, as ever.  
Hermione and David both nodded at the suggestion and the two men started to walk towards the bullpen, leaving the young woman to bid her goodbyes to Spencer.  
"Well, it was lovely meeting you. I hope you have a pleasant afternoon." Said Hermione while offering her hand.  
Spencer looked the delicate appendage and took it carefully in his own hand, as though she was made of porcelain. He squeezed it one time and uttered a quick goodbye before heading for the elevators, this time intent on leaving the building for good.

Hermione watched him leave a little perplexed at his sudden departure, before heading for the office door that had been left open for her on the mezzanine. An office belonging to SAA Hotchner, as suggested by the metallic plaque attached to the door.  
The two men were waiting for by the window, engrossed in a paper file that bore her name on it as Hermione nervously knocked on the open door.  
She couldn't help but think : _Is that what it feels like to be asked to the headmaster's office?  
_ They both turned towards her, David Rossi offering her a kind almost fatherly smile, and SAA Hotchner a tight, but polite one. It was as though she was facing a Albus Dumbledore and a Minerva McGonagall from a different universe. She was in a different world nowadays after all. The feeling left her queasy and a bit unnerved.  
"Miss Granger, please take a seat." Said SAA Hotchner as he himself went behind his desk.  
Hermione took the seat closest to the door, letting the one on her left open for SAA Rossi.  
"We already have a file on you, as you can see… and your qualifications are impressive. Between your degrees in Criminal Science and Anthropology alone your profile is in perfect alignment with the kind of qualifications this office needs. You see, the FBI has tasked me with the job of expending the BAU, as it usually deals with high profile cases that demand long hours from our agents. The weight of the work hours is stretching our team thin and it hiring you would mean a better repartition of the workload. I know you where previously reticent to pursue a career in the FBI but perhaps the fact that you are here now means that you have changed your mind?".  
Hermione took a deep breath, she had decided that she would do this, but she had certain stipulations.  
"Yes, it's true that when I was first approached with a job offer, after finishing my last PHD, I turned the offer down. The issue here, agent Hotchner, is that my reasoning for turning the job down is still valid. I don't want to be on the field, carrying a firearm. If it were possible to be on the team and not go on the field I would consider the offer."  
David decided to intervene at this point.  
"Hermione…" he said, addressing the young women directly. "May I call you Hermione?"  
She almost laughed at his question, it was probably the only way she could be addressed these days.  
There had been so many before, in her previous life.  
Miss Granger had first been a distinctive call from teachers, usually to offer her praise, or ridicule in case of a certain potion master, but she had outgrown this stage. Miss Granger was also a reminder of a time where photographers and reporters followed her everywhere, waiting for the most meaningless details to print. A time where she had first felt harassed and followed, then the harassment had turned more brutal, almost like a hazing done by an entire community, a hazing she had suffered enough of.  
Mione was a pet name she hated, but it remained a reminder of a time where she had childhood friends.  
And the Gryffindor Princess reminded her of a period far away from her. A time where she was a young adolescent, unaware of the reach of the media, battling with other issues such as NEWTS and breaking school rules.  
Finally there was one more moniker used by certain people to address her, but she saw this one enough on her skin as it were…Unconsciously she scratched the skin of her left forearm.  
Lost in her thoughts she did not realise she had exceeded the time one would usually take to answer a question.  
"Yes, you may call me Hermione. Or Miss Granger." She added the latter, because she felt like SAA Hotchner wasn't the kind of people to call someone by their first name upon meeting them.  
Both men were watching here warily, as though aware she had struggled with the question but incapable in determining what that struggle could entail.  
"Hermione, your IQ of 190 alone would be reason for us to consider hiring you. The fact that your qualifications align with our line of work is just an additional point that persuades me that you would be a perfect fit for the team. I understand not wanting to be on the field and while most of the agents of our unit do carry a firearm, our technical analyst remains in Quantico and does not need such field qualifications. We could offer you the same status, though because we would want you to actually travel with us, something that Penelope doesn't have to do, you would have to at least take a physical test. You wouldn't have to carry a firearm, you could stay in the different precincts. Would that be convenient for you?"  
 _A physical? Hermione though with horror! Don't they know I am in no capacity a jock? I hate sports!  
_ But she would be lying if she said she wasn't intrigued by the job, she was very good at discerning patterns and thinking the way a person with detached morals would think… that was the problem. She was too cold these days, between her reduced feeling in nerves, her very high pain tolerance, she would be the perfect candidate to dive into the minds of those people. _But did she really want to?  
_ "Would it be possible for me to take this position on a trial basis? I don't know how I would handle it." She asked diplomatically.  
"Yes, that would be the protocol in any case. We would just need for you to terminate your present position, or at least inform your employer of the career change, you could keep being a TA when we don't have a case, though traveling will make it complicated. The physical is the only formal requirement at this point, to the trial basis at least. The permanent position would only be offered after examining your work with us. Would that be acceptable?"  
"I think I could arrange a sort of sabbatical from work during my trial period, I haven't taken holidays in two years anyway, asking for placements in the research departments of the University during the holidays.", she blushed.  
At this information Rossi and Hotch both looked at the woman in front of them with a surprised look. being work alcoholics themselves they were used to prioritising work before life, but no holidays at all? How did she function? Did she have no life outside of work?

While Hotch looked back at her file, David had an idea.  
"Hermione? Would you mind doing a quick consult for us on a case we just received? We haven't decided if we will take it, being in the middle of a serial enucleator case. But would you look at it?"  
Hermione was taken aback by the information load in this simple request.  
"You have a case dealing with enucleation? Aren't those some of the rarest cases?" she asked, the nerd inside of her taking hold of her brain.  
"Yes, those are rare indeed but usually create a lot of press as the murders are unusual and without motives in most cases, the typical enucleator usually being mentally deficient." Hotch answered. Then paused, sighing. "But the case we want you to just give us a consult on is simpler, we have already established a baseline for it : the victims are all females, raped and then ditched in abandoned alleys and the forest. Three victims so far, making it just serial. What could you tell us about it?" he asked giving her a brown paper file, relatively thin.

Hermione knew that the issue here wasn't the case but her response to the gruesome images, descriptions, as well as her analytical skills.  
Taking the paper file she was faced with the image of a decapitated corpse, laying in a ditch in the forest. The female's head must have rolled a few feet away in the ditch. The macabre ensemble made by the decapitation, the multiple marks on her neck signifying the head had been severed after multiple painful strikes instead of one clean cut; would be shocking to anyone. Even seasoned field agents. But Hermione didn't even flinch, the image just reminded her of the body of Parvati Patil, her former schoolmate. She had been found under the rubble of the Battle, her body perfectly severed at the neck due to the pressure of the rocks above her.  
Hermione turned the pages without blinking, frowning or showing any sort of physical disgust. She remained perfectly calm, as though the images in front of her were mundane.  
If Hotchner and Rossi were surprised by the disaffected way she handled the case, they were stunned when she started talking about it.  
"Considering the evidence I would say that the perpetrator is male, in his mid to late twenties, probably hangs around the college in some capacity, as a student, a TA, a young professor's aid. He wouldn't be a janitor or a barista, these students wouldn't trust him at night if he was. And it's highly improbable that he attacked them randomly, this was planned, they are all wearing evening attire, date attire. Of course the perpetrator could have dressed the victims after the rape, but seeing as the clothing is as mutilated as the bodies I would say that the clothing was theirs, and he did not feel the need to redress them, just dispose of them like garbage."  
Hermione finished her analysis, delivered in a somewhat monotone voice, and looked at the two agents in front of her. Both were looking at her with surprise showing on their faces. What also surprised them was the speed at which she had read the file and had captured the information. She really was an impressive young woman.  
"How would you proceed?" Asked SAA Hotchner, trying to further their evaluation of her skills.  
"Well, I would send a young female agent in the field, as a student. Give her enough of a story to entice the killer, but not too much. I would also send a male agent. Killings of such brutality are subjects to gossips, so I would pose him as a curious macho man just trying to take credit for the kills. I think this would infuriate the subject, seeing as the level of violence in those crimes shows someone prone to violent outbursts. But with a female agent as his target it would be easy to see who would show a particular interest in her. Especially since he would probably start to unravel."  
Rossi smiled, still stunned at her analytical and practical mind.  
"It seems like a solid plan with some risks, but minimal to the public. Do you have any other questions Hotch?" He asked his colleague.  
"No… Thank you Miss Granger." He said while getting up and taking the file from the young woman. "We will contact you with the date of your physical but it would probably be in the next fews days so the Bureau will organise a hotel room and other facilities for your convenience."

Hermione thanked both man and after a little small talk, and after receiving the necessary information about her stay in Quantico, exited the office, walking towards the elevator doors.  
On her way to the exit she couldn't help but search around the bullpen for the young agent she had literally bumped into earlier, but Spencer seemed to have left for the day.  
Well, she thought, it's probably not a good idea to befriend him, it would mean getting close to someone, something I don't really do these days.


End file.
